


Rock Bottom

by pomegrenadier



Series: Stable Orbit [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Force Unleashed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomegrenadier/pseuds/pomegrenadier
Summary: He should kill her. No witnesses. No loose ends. No Jedi left alive.





	Rock Bottom

**Author's Note:**

> Another small divergence from canon. Felt like Imperial Felucia was a missed opportunity for character growth. Some dialogue borrowed from the game, some from the novelization, some made up entirely.

He should kill her. No witnesses. No loose ends. No Jedi left alive.

Under the filth kicked up by their battle, Maris Brood looks half-starved and frail. The blood-gold of her eyes burns too brightly, as if it's going to consume her from the inside. She's afraid. She's _shivering_ with fear. And Felucia takes the fear and echoes it back, reverberates with it—fear, and grief, and rage, and—loneliness—

Starkiller deactivates his lightsaber.

"What do you want from me?" Maris snarls.

It takes a minute to answer. The Force is so loud here that it makes it hard to think. "Nothing," he says slowly. "Just ... why did you kidnap the Senator?"

"A bargaining chip," Organa says, before Maris can speak. "She was going to trade me to Vader in exchange for her freedom, if he found her." He glances down at her. "Vader doesn't _bargain_ with Jedi, young one. He executes them."

The Senator isn't wrong, and part of him agrees—it was a terrible plan. But—Felucia. Felucia, the weight of an entire world screaming in pain pressing against his mind, and he's not a Jedi, he can feed on that, but for her—for a scared Jedi who wasn't trained _by Vader—_

Maris is scowling up at him, her eyes bloodshot and glassy with tears, humiliation and hatred spreading through the suffocating morass of emotion like streaks of rot.

Starkiller exhales. "I understand," he says, softly.

"What should we do with her?" asks Organa. "She's fallen to the dark side. And nobody comes back from that."

Maris starts laughing. Sharp, brittle peals of laughter, metal striking metal. She knows. He used lightning, during their fight—she knows exactly what he is—

_No witnesses._

Starkiller swallows. "That's not the point," he rasps. "That's not—Senator, I'm going to ask you to stay out of this, all right?"

"She kidnapped me!"

"And now you’re rescued, so let me handle this. Please."

Organa flares with irritation, but falls silent.

Which leaves Maris, who knows what he is, who knows that he killed Shaak Ti—but she isn't saying anything. She hasn't told Organa.

Starkiller is so damn tired. "It's not about coming back," he says. "Maris. It's not about that. It's—you're a survivor. You're alive. And it's awful and it hurts but it's _yours_. Your choice. Whatever you do next, it's yours."

"You're ... letting me go," she says, disbelief bursting cold through the Force.

_Kill her. _The voice in his head sounds like Vader.

He nods once. "Plenty of Imperial shuttles lying around."

Maris's expression goes carefully neutral, but something too bitter and desperate to be called hope twists around her, aching and reaching. Slowly, she stands up again. She tries to wipe away the mud on her face, but her hands are just as filthy if not more so. She takes a cautious step backwards, then another, and another.

Starkiller doesn't follow.

She seems to search his eyes. He's not sure what she sees. He's not sure if he wants to know.

Maris turns around and starts running.

Organa steps forward to stand beside him as she vanishes into the undergrowth. "That one ... She reminds me too much of another young Jedi who turned to the dark side. You shouldn't have let her go free."

Starkiller ignores him and pulls out his comlink. "Juno, I have the Senator—how close can you get?"

"Looks like there's a relatively clear area about a klick northwest of you. Sending coordinates now."

"See you there." He wrenches his boots out of the cloying muck and starts slogging.

Organa hurries to catch up. "I've seen what happens when Jedi give in to the dark side," he says. "Everyone around them suffers. Here, the entire planet was corrupted."

"Was it corrupted because of one fallen Jedi, or because of the Imperial occupation?" Starkiller snaps. "Did she fall because she's just weak, or because something pushed her? Should I have killed her? Is that really the Jedi way?"

"Why are you defending her?" Organa sounds honestly baffled. Maybe a little indignant. Which is understandable, after what she put him through, but it still grates.

Starkiller skirts the edge of an unpleasant-looking puddle. He glares at the ground. "I've been there," he says. Not quite a lie. Nowhere near the whole truth. "And no, I don't want to discuss it."

Fear like a razor wire, twining through the thick, humid air. Organa's stride falters for a moment. He recovers quickly, but Starkiller can feel the new wariness prickling at his back. "I see," Organa says.

Neither of them says much until they reach the rendezvous point.

**o.O.o**

_end_


End file.
